"What–"
She was going for angry, standoffish, but she sounded more excited than anything else. That wouldn't do at all. After a moment to steel herself,
"What are you doing in my house?"
He looked like he had been caught drinking out of the milk carton. The crow on his hand gave a squawk at her presence.
"I... I didn't know anyone lived here."
His voice was coarser than the crow's. Was that all he could offer? She pointed to the nearby hearthfire, the one she lit herself.
"You thought no one lived here?"
The fire crackled quietly, showering them both in warmth. He took a moment before he answered.
"I didn't think anyone could live here. I haven't ever... met anyone, out there. In the–"
"Out in the woods."
He furrowed his brow at that. A strange way to put it, she knew. But then he gave a little shrug, it's not like he had a preference. He continued,
"There are many places like this out there, in the woods. All empty. Though most aren't so... comfy."
"Thank you!" Any pretense of anger was lost at that delighted reply. "Have you been traveling long?"
There were many questions behind that one. How long have you been here? Where did you come from? Are you like me? She was pretty sure she knew the answer to the last one. If he was like her, he would at least have a house. He didn't look like a native though.
He started glancing for the exit. The crow followed his eyes, before looking back to her.
"I'm sorry," he started, his social graces finally returning to him, "I shouldn't have trespassed. I'll–"
"I didn't say you had to leave," She couldn't let go yet. It had been far too long, "I didn't say you could leave."
Wow! Too far. Way too far. Could she have said anything more insidious if she was trying? If he wasn't looking for a way out before, he definitely was now.
"Um, I– I uh...." His anxiety spiked through the roof. The bird flapped it's wings once and gave her a strange look that she knew was disappointment. Maybe they were both a little bit rusty on the socializing. How could she reel him back in here? A warm fire wasn't enough, and conversation clearly wasn't his forte. What could she offer a traveller?
"I'm sorry, I– Would you like something to drink?"
His face immediately shifted from discomfort and alarm to a cold iron mask, and she realized her mistake. She too had travelled before. She knew the trap laid in such gifts and the threats they implied. He shook the crow off his hand, and reached for some hilt behind his back. His other hand raised low between them. The bird landed on the mantle above the fire. This was spiraling out of control in a hurry, but she wouldn't back down.
"Please?"
A tense moment later, he was disarmed. The creatures he was fearing didn't use the word "please." Not like that. They would never plead. They were far too proud. It might have helped that her voice cracked a little. Though he kept one hand on whatever weapon he was concealing, his other dropped and his face softened. He said nothing, but he wasn't going anywhere. The crow sat, finally pleased. They were going to get along after all.
